Brad clutched his face and shoved me away with a force that sent me staggering.
Even soaked in the relentless rain, his furious expression remained unnervingly striking, his features so perfect they bordered on unreal.
“You followed me?” he snapped, his voice razor–sharp. “Wendy, I never imagined you could be so calculating.”
His lips curled into a mocking sneer. “So, what now? How much are you trying to squeeze out of me?”
My entire body trembled with rage. The sheer agony of seeing someone I once loved transform into a stranger was more excruciating than any physical torment.
I’d thought the pain of swallowing those pills, of losing a child, was the worst I could endure. But I was wrong. This–this was worse.
I broke, my voice cracking into a desperate wail. “Brad, are you even human? After everything, you still have the gall to turn this around on me?”
“Do you remember the bartender you kicked down at the club today? That was me!” I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and foreign even to my ears.
I staggered to my feet, every muscle screaming in protest. “You said you wanted a car–a simple car- and I just wanted to earn enough to give it to you.”
For a moment, guilt flickered across his face. He reached for my hand, his eyes suddenly soft, almost tender. “Wendy, I didn’t mean to deceive you. I-”
The moment his fingers brushed against mine, a wave of nausea surged through me, violent and unrelenting. “Don’t touch me!” I spat, jerking away from him.
I felt like a wilted flower, once vibrant, now stripped of all life. “Brad, tell me the truth,” I said, my voice a trembling whisper. “Did you spend the money from my bank account?”
His lips thinned, his silence answering for him.
